Best Served Hot
by Another Girl Grasping
Summary: When Hermione catches Ron cheating, Rita's article is the last straw.  Our Herione seeks explicit revenge and recieves it in abundance. HG/RS. Rated M for sexual content.


Best Served Hot

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. I do not own the settings.

A/N: Hermione walked into my head one day weaing tight jeans, a leather jacket and a resolute expression. This is where she took me. Enjoy

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Hermione walked slowly, deliberately, toward the Leaky Cauldron. It wasn't difficult to walk around these days. Many people didn't recognize her anymore. In fact, even the woman she was following hadn't yet noted the fact that she was only ten paces or so behind her. Hardness made its home in her features.

She watched as the woman checked into room nine. She waited about ten minutes before walking into the pub. Tom smiled warmly at her and she returned the sentiment. The man was kind, most people were not. She reserved her good will for those who deserved it. With a nod she made her way up the steps. Honeyed eyes spared a glance at the door marked seven, where she was staying, before brushing past it to room nine.

There was a score left unsettled. It sat heavy on her mind, weighing her down. Hermione Granger did not leave things unfinished, ever. Take for instance her marriage... Finished. She was 26 years old now, she had two children and palimony to pay. It was a horrible joke, paying him when she was the one who found him in bed with that slag of a woman. She couldn't understand why she didn't see it coming. After all the shit he put her through with Lavender Brown and abandoning her and Harry in the Forest of Dean; she ought to have realized his freckled idiocy would never change.

The owls were tapping incessantly at her window with notes from Ron. At first they were apologetic and sweet, that only served to piss her off. Then they turned to angry and cruel, calling her frigid and insisting it was her fault his cock had magically found its way into other women. Finally she'd dropped the children off with Molly and taken a room at the Leaky Cauldron.

The woman she considered a second mother could only look at her sadly and wish her best. At least she hadn't tried to convince Hermione to forgive her son. Even his mother knew he was an ass. She was grateful for Molly's understanding nature and that she agreed to take the children for a week. Hermione truly needed to get her head in order.

Beginning here and now. She clutched the latest issue of the Prophet in her fist. A photograph from her wedding was on the cover. She watched Ron twirling her around and take her in his arms, once and then twice. Her eyes travelled lower, to the photo of Ron with his head in his hands, shaking from side to side.

"ANOTHER NOTCH ON HER WAND!" Read the headline. Another notch indeed, on Ron's wand, not hers. Only Merlin knew how many women he'd bedded over the course of their four year marriage. She thought of him pressing into her, pressing into her after just having washed another woman off of him. The notion stirred the contents of her stomach. She stopped for a moment and leaned against the wall in the hallway. She felt as if she would cry, but had no tears left to shed. She felt as if she might vomit, but swallowed down hard against the urge.

After a few minutes she was able to push herself off the wall, her features set once more. Room number nine. Shabby lodgings to be sure, but this was a rather shabby woman Hermione was dealing with. She inhaled deeply and released. Her wand held securely in her left hand, her right ascended and rapped on weathered wood three times.

Ever arrogant, the blonde witch answered the door without asking who it was first. Wood creaked and revealed the reporter, right eyebrow cocked. Over-painted red lips quirked to the side in smirk. "Mrs. Weasley, good evening. Condolences." Mocking words dripped from garnet lips like blood. Hermione could only see red. She would widen that smirk considerably before the night was over.

She brushed her slight form past the curvaceous woman into the room. "You can shove your condolences up your ass Rita." She said, throwing her body down into an armchair set up next to the bed and dropping her purse next to it. Rita laughed and closed the door with a flick of her wand, turning to the young witch and smiling.

"I take it you're here to blackmail me again? It won't work this time. I'm a registered animagus, its official, they even gave me a nice little laminated card to carry around in my purse. So you can take your threats and shove them up your own ass." As she spoke her face became redder and redder until her lips simply blended in. Hermione watched in fascinated curiosity, would she turn into a beetle from her anger? A passage from one of her transfiguration books had mentioned that highly charged emotions could cause such a thing.

"Calm yourself Rita, you're no good to me if you revert to your bug form. I might be frustrated enough to crush you underfoot. Let's just bring this situation down from a ten to perhaps... a four, shall we?" Hermione stood and smoothed her black tank over form fitting dark blue jeans. Rita took notice of her clothing for the first time. An open black leather jacket hit at her hip. On her feet were boots with a heel that looked like a weapon.

She certainly didn't look like a woman who'd recently separated from her husband with whom she had two children. She looked positively dangerous and... desirable. Rita idly wondered why any man would seek the warmth of someone else in his bed when this was his wife. "I suppose we could do that." Rita responded. She walked over to the bar and fetched some fire whiskey, motioning to Hermione, who nodded her acceptance of the libation.

Rita handed her a double and together they tossed the strong drink back. "Thank you." Hermione said politely, examining the tumbler in her hand. "Now, I'm not here to blackmail you. Though this last article painted me in a rather unflattering light. 'Unable to keep hold of a good man.' I believe you wrote." Rita nodded at the quote. "Well you're mistaken. The man is simply a prat who chose not to grow up-"

"So you want a rewrite? I don't-" Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Will you shut your trap for one minute and let someone else speak, woman?" Hermione demanded. Rita's eyes widened. She nodded slowly. The young witch might appear calm, but flashes of her anger floated to the surface occasionally. She decided it best to let her say her piece.

"I'm not here for a bloody rewrite. I couldn't care less what your readers think. I'm here for revenge." Hermione leaned on the wall behind her.

"Revenge on..." Rita led her, she wrapped her fingers around her wand, preparing for a duel and hoping it wouldn't be in her near future. Hermione noted the change in the reporter's body language. She sighed.

"Not on you Rita, I need your help." Hermione finished. Rita's arm relaxed. She sat down on the easy chair Hermione previously occupied. She grabbed her quill and waited. Hermione raised an eyebrow at her.

"No more articles Rita. You see, my husband cheated on me with slag after slag. What I need is a way to make him feel just like I felt. That's where you come in." Rita narrowed her eyes at the young woman.

"I'm no slag." She said simply. Hermione took a step toward her.

"I'm well aware. I certainly wouldn't want to match him, I want to out-do him." She pulled out a camcorder. "This is a muggle device used to create movies. Pictures that move for a long time. I want to make a nice movie for my husband." She explained, placing the camcorder on a table opposite the bed.

Rita caught on quickly. She looked at the witch before her. She was an attractive woman to be sure... and Rita did so love a good intrigue. "I think I can offer you some assistance." Oh those lips. Those red lips. "So this is for your husband?" She asked.

"More for me. But yes, for him too." She leaned back on her hands, displaying her toned body for Rita. "He considered me frigid. I intend to prove otherwise." She said, rolling her shoulders to allow the leather jacket to fall off of her frame. She beckoned Rita to come closer and the reporter complied.

"I must admit to having notions of you as... Icy." Rita said as she unbuttoned her blouse. She watched the passions begin to rise in the young woman. She noted the curves that childbearing had given her once slight form. "So if we're here to prove your prowess, I suggest you begin." She joked.

Hermione took a deep breath. She was going to go through with this. She couldn't turn back now, no matter her doubts. Ron had bedded god knows how many women outside of their marriage. She reached down and grabbed at the hem of her tank, pulling it over her head. She let her fingers trail down her chest and abdomen before opening her button fly jeans. Rita's eyes on her urged her on. Ron would hate that she let the reporter do this.

Hermione stood and walked over to her bag. She pulled out a long strap on dildo. "I want you to use this. That's my only condition, you're free to do whatever else strikes your fancy. But I want him to feel... small." Rita's eyes lit up like fireworks.

"Anything I fancy?" She asked. Hermione nodded confirmation.

"In fact, I would prefer if you were rough." She huffed. "Frigid indeed." Rita laughed, taking the phallus from Hermione. She stripped her clothes off without shame and put it on. Hermione took her clothes off as well. She pressed the record button on her camcorder and adjusted the angle to get all of the bed.

Rita crawled across the bed toward her. Her garnet pressed against the young witch's soft pink mouth. Hermione darted her tongue out to taste Rita's lips. She tasted of bittersweet revenge. She tasted so good. At the first brush of the reporter's tongue against hers she knew she was making the right choice. She let go and wrapped her arm around Rita's neck.

Hermione was warm, soft and firm, Rita allowed herself to relish in the woman's embrace. She kissed her long and well, with long pent up passion. The young witch moaned into the kiss, driving Rita on. She rose up on one elbow and with her free hand began touching, exploring the young woman. She felt smooth olive skin rise to gooseflesh. Hermione's back arched slightly, pressing her hips up toward Rita.

The kiss broke in two, smeared red lips made their way down to full breasts. A lascivious tongue circled and flicked, eliciting soft moans in response. Hermione ran her fingers through the older witch's curls, gripping tight when Rita bit down on one of her peaks. her breasts arched and a surprised moan of pain and pleasure sounded from her throat.

"Mmm, you DO like it rough. Little vixen." Rita teased. A sultry laugh was the only response. Rita raised herself up, looking Hermione in the eye, she pet her hair gently before yanking Hermione down by curling brown locks. Hermione took the clue and darted her tongue out to taste the tip of Rita's cock.

She remembered all of the nights Ron insisted. All the nights she tried her best to satisfy him and still he cheated. She smiled up at Rita. This wasn't Ron... and she was going to suck Rita's cock like never before. Rita watched as the woman let the phallus slide past her lips, she took far more into her mouth than Rita imagined she could. It was possibly the sexiest thing she had ever seen. She wrapped some hair around her hand and slowly guided Hermione's motions so that the base hit her clit just right. She pulled away from Hermione after a few minutes and pushed her to lie down.

Rita positioned herself between Hermione's legs and looked toward the camera, smirking. She reached between the young witch's thighs, seeing if she was ready. "Oh you dirty little bitch, you're positively drenched." Hermione groaned at the insults and thrust her hips forward. Rita leaned down to kiss her once more. Her tongue slipped past lips as the head of her cock slid into Hermione.

Moans travelled the space between Hermione's mouth and Rita's ears. A small hand shot out to grip Rita's shoulder. In one languid stroke Hermione was filled to the hilt with revenge. Revenge was long and wide, revenge touched all of her walls at once, unlike her husband. The moan wasn't the moan her husband evoked. Round, brown eyes looked up through long lashes at Rita with hunger. Rita smirked and began to stroke.

Hermione's head turned from side to side as she felt Rita pull almost all the way out before pistoning forward. Each thrust was long and full. Her right leg wrapped around Rita's hips, desperate not to let the woman go. She needn't have worried, Rita was quite enjoying herself. The young witch was slick and hot as she reached down to pass the pad of a finger over her clit. Hips jerked in response and a particularly delicious moan emitted from the pink lipped beauty.

"Feels good then, does it?" Rita asked haughtily. Hermione bit her lip, looking up at one of her enemies with a hunger Rita never thought she would find there in milk chocolate eyes.

"Gods yes." Hermione replied and leaned up, taking smeared, red lips in hers. Rita sped her pace up as the two women kissed feverishly. Hermione's hips rolled up toward the reporter with abandon. It had been so long since she made love to anyone but Ron and she almost forgot what she'd been missing. Lips pulled apart reluctantly, gasping for precious air.

Sensibly clipped nails penned at Rita's back, writing stories of desire and abandon. A particular thrill ran down the reporter's spine. The realization that she wanted to make this young woman scream her name came barreling into her psyche like a runaway train. She stopped short on her thrusts. "No! Hard, I need it hard." Hermione practically sobbed.

"Turn over." Molasses command dripped from swollen, red mouth. She smirked as the woman complied with skill, lifting on leg and rotating with the cock still inside of her. Rita was impressed. She wasted no time gripping the shapely hips before her and slamming into the waiting woman. Hermione's hand shot out and gripped the headboard just in time to stop her nose from breaking.

"Your body is fucking stunning. Such a sweet fuck." Rita crooned to Hermione, whose moans had become almost constant. Her voice was growing hoarse as her orgasm neared. Long, thick fingers found their way to her nipples, teasing relentlessly. She was close now. One hand slipped to her shoulder, forcing her back to an elegant arch as the other slipped down her front. With the first touch of her clit Hermione fell apart. "Oh fuck! Gods Rita, yes!" Came name sought. Rita let Hermione rock her hips back, watching with fascination the way the rolling slowed as she rode out her pleasure.

Rita pulled away when the spasms ceased and Hermione turned over, tears in her eyes. "Are you sad?" Rita asked alarmed and shocked. By all means the woman should be ecstatic after that. Hermione laughed softly.

"No, I'm triumphant." She said, looking pointedly at the camera. Rita smiled. The woman was really quite beautiful and so full of Passion. Who knew?

"What say we turn that thing off and you climb on top? I think Red's seen quite enough." She suggested, wagging her perfectly arched eyebrows. Hermione smirked, standing to shut it off.

"Aren't you afraid he will use it to blackmail you anyway?" Rita asked suddenly. Hermione laughed, staring into the camera.

"No, I'm not. Goodbye Ronald." She said and the video cut.

Ron looked into the satisfied, smiling face of his wife on the telly. His wife who'd been thoroughly fucked by Rita Skeeter with a strap on dildo. His face was red with anger, his hands clenched to fists and shaking. He was hard in spite of himself. He wondered for a moment why Hermione wasn't worried about him incriminating her with the video when his VCR exploded.

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Hit that button. Tell me how you love it! Seriously, tell me.


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